This year I wondered if our annual âWelcome to Decemberâ brunch would even happen. I was 1 week postpartum and very deprived of sleep.
But I couldnât let the first week of the month pass without ringing in the season! SoâŚwe opted for an afternoon tea party instead.
Thankfully, my sweet mom was still here to help! Instead of breakfast cinnamon rolls, I rolled triangled crescents in sweetened cream cheese and chocolate chips. We made a Christmas tree out of our delicious concoction and the kids inhaled it!
Dusted with powdered sugar [read: snow] of course!
Coupled with hot chocolate in our favorite Christmas tree pitcher, a pair of matching fleece pajamas(with an additional matching set for their dolls)âit was a sweet time together.
While the kids munched on goodies, I read two of my favorite Christmas books.
This yearâs picks wereâŚ
The Spirit of Christmas has beautifully illustrated the wonder of the season. Nancy Tillman has written several of my favorites, and she has such an artful way of capturing whimsy while also pointing back to its Creator. The girls loved this one.
The Crippled Lamb is a spin on the original Christmas narrative. Children are invited to follow the journey of a lamb named Joshua who isnât the most beloved in the herd(due to his disability) but ultimately realizes what a blessing he can be, just the way God made him! This one provides a great opportunity to talk about how differences from God are good because He intended them that way! Itâs a sweet reminder that everyone is âGods workmanship, created in Christ to do good works which God prepared in advance that they should doâ!
Of course we ended our time talking about the reason for the seasonâJesus! We discussed how this entire month is a birthday party for Him! That everything we doâhanging lights, decorations, giving gifts, etcâis in celebration of the Incarnation!
Still playing catch up with my photosâŚhere are some more summer highlights! We celebrated our nationâs freedom by attending church, then hosting a bbq for friends. The night of the 4th we attended [probably] the closest fireworks show Iâve ever seen at another friends house! The fireworks were launched from the mountain where we were sittingâincredible!
It isn’t lost on me that he was always there—for every performance, game and ceremony…not to mention all of the little moments in between. He was present. And usually my biggest cheerleader. When no one stepped up to coach my basketball team, he did it. When I needed a last minute-run to the store for hairspray–he made it. If I needed anything–prayer, wise counsel, encouragement–he was there. Not because he wanted to be my favorite parent, or the “cool dad”, but because he had committed long before I was even born to love me.
There’s a story I like to tell my daughters about this kind of love. As a child I grew accustomed to walking through tall, dew-kissed blades of grass to his office. It was a a couple hundred feet away, and with every step my heart leaped at the thought of a big mid-morning hug, and [possibly] a treat from the giant glass jar on his desk. But the walk wasn’t without turmoil–for there were stickers littering the path. Of course I didn’t mind because I get to see Daddy, but it was mildly painful, and my blood-splotched toes were evidence of this.
It is always at this point in the story when my daughters, wide-eyed, glance up asking–Mama, what did you DO? This is when I respond that I did nothing. But my daddy–their Papa–did. He carefully wrapped my feet in sheets of snow white printer paper–the durable, crisp kind that isn’t easily torn–taping along the edges. That always ensured my safe, scar-free return. And it made me feel more special than anyone on earth.
I could recall countless stories like this–when he thoughtfully considered my needs before his own; planning and prayerfully counting the cost. He placed–more often than not–the needs of others before his own. He did it joyfully in my foundational years, and it is with a heart swollen with gratitude that I recount the moments.
Even now, as a young mom of 3 thousands of miles from home, I have watched how he and my mother have taken strains to provide seasons of respite[through family vacation, time away with my husband, or caring for our littles so I can recharge]. I can think of numerous times when both of my parents sacrificed to make our lives more fun and comfortable, even if that meant they themselves were lacking. And I can’t help but wonder if that would have happened without my father’s tender, yet strong hand to lead our family. He modeled gracious living—giving of oneself constantly that others might be nourished–so well, and He continues building upon that legacy even now.
Susannah Spurgeon once wrote of a father’s love,
What little one is afraid to run to a loving father and ask for all it wants? Never a doubt rises in a child’s mind as to the supply of all his needs, and the direction of all that concerns him. The child has positively no care for the present, no thought for tomorrow, no fears for the past. Father knows everything. Father can do everything. Father provides everything. In fact, father loves.
Free Grace & Dying Love
I am grateful because I knew this love, and it continues even now. But I have seen the brokenness of this world. I have heard the stories of friends, and I would be remiss if I failed to mention the harsh reality that the word father stirs tangled emotions for some. This grieves my heart more than I can say. The fallen world has stained things meant to be wholly true, lovely, pure, excellent and praiseworthy. I have seen this within my own circumstances at times. However, we are not without hope. I know this because I have a father who–in his own imperfections–faithfully pointed me to it. He knew that as my earthly father, his failings would be many(although I can’t think of any at present). But he also knew the only One who is entirely good, strong and kind. At every point–in conversation, voicemails, prayers, letters–my father’s eyes were fixed on the Father. When my sensitivities planted seeds of doubt within my own heart, my daddy was there to remind me of truth. Not because he was a perfect man, but because he served the Perfect Father.
Spurgeon continues,
O my soul, can you for a moment imagine what it would be of joy, and rest, and peace, to live out day by day such a child-life love of the Father? He knows you altogether. He understands all of your individual peculiarities, sees your weakness and sinfulness, your sore temptations, perplexities and daily shortcomings; but he loves you notwithstanding all, not for any merit or worthiness in you, but because you are his child. You have believed on his dear Son, whom he gave to die for your sins; you have accepted his complete salvation, you have received the Spirit of adoption, and now with confidence and perfect trust, you can look up to him and say, ‘Abba Father’. And does this not suffice to make you absolutely ‘without carefulness’, like a little child?
Free Grace & Dying Love
And so on this Father’s Day, I am humbled to be loved by a father who showed me the Father through unconditional love, unending sacrifice and tender care.
Whatever this day conjures within, there is peace in remembering Paul’s words to the Romans:
What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us. He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? For I am sure that neither death nor life, neither angels nor rulers, nor things present or things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Romans 8:32,38-39
I donât know about you, but this past week was a bit of a grind. I usually slink into a rhythm after the holiday scramble, but this month our familyâs schedule had no choice but to jump head-on into busyness. Unregrettably(and with surprising enthusiasm) we have embraced full days, falling into bed both exhausted and hopeful. Mostly because the weariness of busyness feels right; normal. And we are desperate to be in that wonderful world of routine again.
I confess that sometimes, the exhaustion of busyness leaves me listless. I(unlike my sweet husband) do not embrace the transition into a new routine well. For me, this has been most visible in my commitment to starting the day early.
The dawn of the new year brought a belated Christmas gift of two[long-desired] armchairs. These were chairs we had considered for years, but never allowed ourselves because âthe timing wasnât rightâ, they were âtoo expensiveâ or we had ânowhere to put themâ. At the beginning of the year, we made a grand commitment(this was more mine than my husbandâs because…he is far more disciplined than I am) to rise early together. I finally realized that the only way my introverted personality would find rest would be to embrace the unthinkable–an earlier alarm. Truth: this is not me. I really love sleep. I mean, a lot. Ask any member of my family and they will wholeheartedly agree that I really enjoy being in âcomfy clothesâ snuggled under warm blankets. But I noticed that every time I awoke with the girls(meaning they came in with their standard, âMom, can you get me some milk?â morning greeting) I was cranky. Understandably so, right? Because who else wants to wake up to demands? In their defense, they donât understand that questions can feel demanding sometimes. As far as theyâre concerned(and there is some truth to this) itâs my job to meet their needs. But you get it, right? Thus the decision to arise early–like uncomfortably early(for me) was made. And so, morning-by-morning I cringed as my alarm rang out painfully early, and stumbled through our dark, cold kitchen to those beloved chairs. We bought them, I reasoned, and so I must.
And so–I trudged through those first few days grumbling, yet consistent. It was cold, I was up before the sunrise, and it felt off. But then I remembered my fuzzy red polka-dotted robe. And there was a fireplace. And I could finish my tea without having to reheat it. And I got to spend time with my husband before the kids woke up. And this was the only time of day to enjoy my winter village[which is actually what Iâm calling my Christmas village since I havenât had the heart to pack it up yet] in quiet calm. And…and…
Something strange happened as I continued my date with the chairs: my heart changed. I began to see the fruit of this simple act of faithfulness.
I recently finished reading the book of Joshua. His last charge to the people of Israel before his death really struck me. In fact, any time I see someoneâs final words in scripture, it grips my heart. Thereâs something about the balance of caution and tenderness in Joshuaâs tone that seemed to resonate with my heart this morning, in particular. After gathering the Israelites before him, Joshua recounted all the good things that the Lord had done for the people: freedom from captivity, providing a land promised and preserved just for them, destroying kings, cities and strongholds that they might prosper for the sake of Godâs glory, preserving and purifying families throughout generations, etc. And then the passage shifts to Joshuaâs command. The very first words uttered are these:
Now therefore fear the Lord and serve him in sincerity and in faithfulness. Put away the gods that your fathers served beyond the River and in Egypt, and serve the Lord. And if it is evil in your eyes to serve the Lord, choose this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your fathers served in the region beyond the River or the gods of the Amorites in whose land you dwell. But as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.
ThenâŚ
The people answered, âfar be it from us that we should forsake the Lord to serve other godsâŚâ
Joshua 24:14-16a
At the ripe old age of 9 years, I gave my life to Christ. This is something that I pray for my children daily–that they might have a desire to know and love Him from a young age. For as long as I can remember, I have known stories in the Bible. Many of them are familiar–like old friends–But I have to admit(and maybe youâve never felt this) sometimes my heart needs to seem them afresh. Sometimes, in my flesh, I donât see the stories of scripture with wonder and awe. And sadly, I lack that passion filling my eyes in other, younger spiritual seasons[when I say younger, I mean those foundational years…when everything was exciting and new]. This discourages me at times, and forms an incorrect self-doubt within my mind. Of course, this is due to the inconsistent, temporal nature of my own fickle heart. Never has it been because God changes. Itâs always only ever me. I get in the way, so to speak.
Too often, I am like the Israelites–making lofty commitments, foolishly attempting faithfulness in my own strength.
Sincerity and steadfastness do not come naturally because I am flawed. Honestly, this realization discouraged my heart earlier this week. But then I considered those armchairs. It isn’t always easy to get up earlier. And in fact, I really struggled most days, but it became routine. And I my heart became thankful. That, to me is a very modest example of what it means to pursue this mysterious, unattainable-in-my-own-flesh faithfulness to which Iâm called. When Joshua charged the Israelites, he knew that some of them would fail. He even reminded them later(vs. 19) that it would be impossible to serve God with their own hollow promises[ He was far too holy for that].
But God, in his perfect grace and goodness, will always preserve those who are truly His.
We saw Him do it continually with the Israelites, and Iâve seen it in my own life, too. When steadfastness becomes a strain, I am reminded of my need to continue looking to Christ, by whom true sincerity and faithfulness is possible.
For me, that means honoring little commitments for the sake of the biggest one, and watching how God graciously meets me there. It means offering my often faithless, grumbling heart to the One who created it, knowing that He alone will restore, supply and sustain[producing greater joy!] to the very end.
redeemingthemundane
Today, whatever your faithfulness looks like, know it isnât overlooked by this completely Holy, yet perfectly loving Father. He sees you doing the dishes, working on your business, changing dirty diapers, caring for your house-bound friend or family member, striving at your cubicle,etc. He knows your needs, and He will give you grace to carry on, for the sake of your good, His name and His renown.
PS–feel free to ask me how my morning routine is going–the Lord knows I need the accountability! đ
Christmas is fast approaching, so I’m STILL sharing some of our favorites! This week I’m sharing a little bit of everything!
Does anyone else like to track memories? I DO! But I’m really not the scrapbook-ing type. I needed something that would let me keep a concise, yet thoughtful record of everything we did over the holiday season, and this book hit the spot! Each page features a section on what you ate, activities, pictures, etc. But it won’t take you hours to fill out! I fill this one out every year and it has been so fun to look back over the years! Someone was thoughtful enough to gift us this one with our name engraved, and I thought it was the most sentimental gift!
2. Santa Claus is coming to…[insert birthplace of your kid here]!
This one is a GEM! Even though my babies know he’s not real, they still enjoy reading books about him(for fun) and these books personalize the experience perfectly! I make a point to gift a copy of this book(featuring the birth state of each child) on the first Christmas they celebrate with us outside utero đ It’s always fun showing the pictures and reminiscing(if you can’t tell, I am HERE for the sentimental stuff!) about where we were when they were born! There are pictures featuring familiar landmarks on each page! Your child will love it! I think this is also a sweet gift they can pass down to their own children one day.
3. Okay, THIS CD has been a HUGE hit with my family this year. Actually, I should say there are several. We are ALL about the Christmas jams around here! Straight No Chaser has been around for a while, but Rosebud(my eldest) and I just discovered this song and it is one of our favorites for post-dinner dance parties! The whole album is festive, but their version of the “12 Days of Christmas” is particularly silly because it features a medley of Christmas tunes + [my FAVORITE] a nod to Toto’s “Africa” but with holiday lyrics. You guys have to check this out!
4. This next album is a timeless classic. You’ve probably heard it many times over, but I have to share it because when the craziness of the season gets overwhelming I just turn it on and it soothes my soul! It’s particularly perfect for days spent crafting at home on a lazy snowy day! We have the vinyl, which is one of my favorite ways to listen to music! Plus the record is bright green, and that just tickles me!
5. This last one came to us last Christmas, and it was a personal favorite. Alistair Begg takes several key characters at Christmas and does an in-depth analysis on each. But he does it using the songs they sand! It’s a simple, short read, but there is so much goodness there! It really encouraged my soul and helped prepare my heart for the Advent season.
What are some of your favorite resources or traditions? Thanks for stopping by and MERRY CHRISTMAS season! đ
Redeeming the Mundane 